


cape town kisses

by mikantsumiki



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikantsumiki/pseuds/mikantsumiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh come on boo,” You say, your hands resting on her shoulders, “I wanted to take you somewhere magical, somewhere you’ve never been before. I know you’ll want to go there too. Next stop, Cape Town; all aboard the train, the conductor’s about ready to leave and he doesn’t want to leave any passengers behind, ‘specially the cute ones.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	cape town kisses

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha i dont know where i was going with this fic  
> but!!! this is a christmas present to my gf and yeah! uwu

She’s been like this for a while. By a while, you mean since her dancestor had appeared and somehow it convinced her that she wasn’t nearly as cool as Latula. In all honesty, that made your chest ache because now she’s hiding her pretty face under her dragon cape and she won’t let you see her anymore.

For a while, you try to convince her otherwise. You tell her that she doesn’t need to be cool to impress anybody because they’d like her just the way she is. The way it goes through your head comes out better than how you say it though.

She doesn’t listen; she pushes you away and tells you that she needs some space. You know she only tells you that when she’s upset.

She sits on the edge of Can Town’s newly built park, where the browns and blues and greens mesh together in an earthly palette. She’s got a stick of chalk in one hand and her eyebrows furrowed together, a work in progress between the junctions of her legs. You’re not sure what she’s drawing from so far away and the curiosity eats at you, so you slide your way over.

She smells you before you’re within ten feet of her, a soft huff of your name leaving her lips slowly along with a sigh. Terezi Pyrope doesn’t turn back to greet you more, just presses a piece of white chalk to the ground. From above her, you notice that she’s scribbling a picture of herself in a corner while everyone surrounds the older Pyrope. You frown because you wish you could make her cheer up.

You wait until she’s done; her beat up black shirt and pants getting covered in the chalky disaster of drabbled art on the ground. She’s even got the glints of powder on her palms and forearms. She gets onto her feet, facing you expectantly – surely if you came over here there must be _something_ you want.

You don’t voice your concerns. You pull her over, away from the work that took three of you almost three years to make and settle onto the floor again. You make sure she’s facing you, your legs bent on either side of her.

“If this is another invention of a feelings jam, I’m not in the mood,” She tries to stop you from pulling her closer, shaking her head.

“Oh come on boo,” You say, your hands resting on her shoulders, “I wanted to take you somewhere magical, somewhere you’ve never been before. I know you’ll want to go there too. Next stop, Cape Town; all aboard the train, the conductor’s about ready to leave and he doesn’t want to leave any passengers behind, ‘specially the cute ones.”

You don’t give her time to answer as you slide in closer, moving her legs so that they’re resting over yours, pulling your cape over your heads. It’s long enough to sling over her back and it makes everything all the more darker.

If she’s not the least bit amused, she’s bad at hiding it because you see the faintest of a smile appear on her face. It’s there one moment and gone the next, swept up like trash on a beach.

“Hiding from your problems isn’t going to make them go away, but I’m sure you already knew that,” You mumble, fingers flicking against the ground while you try to decide if cuddling her would be a good move, teeth gnawing at the inside of your mouth, “I don’t know why you’re hiding from her, but I know you know you’re way better than sitting here and moping about it like a little baby.”

You stare at her for a while, a hand coming down to cup the side of her face, turning her head up towards you. You can see bags under her tired eyes—when was the last time she had some good rest?—and the flicker of worry as she wrinkles her nose. The dim freckles on her cheeks are more visible when you’re this close to her and you want to kiss each one of them slowly, tenderly.

“Do you think she’s cool?” She blurts out a breath of air, hair falling into her face, “Everyone thinks she is and I don’t think I can live up to that.”

“Well, yeah, sure she’s cool if you’re into the whole 1990’s thing she has going for her, and Tony Hawk styled skateboarding tricks, but that doesn’t mean you’re not cool and fun in your own way,” You say, pushing it away from her eyes, “That’s what I like about you Rezi; you’re smart, pretty, fun, the whole fucking package shipped right from Santa Clause himself, with a red bow and so much more.”

She perks up slightly at that, “Is it a pretty red bow?”

“Only the prettiest one’s for you,” You humor, and lean down enough to press a kiss to her lips.

You don’t really know if she’s actually feeling better, but damn it all because she slowly drags her arms up and crosses them behind your neck, drawing you in more and that’s good enough for you now.


End file.
